Ambition
by CrazyClumsyCoco15
Summary: Matt is never recognized at Wammy's House as more than Mello's "follower". He's angry and envious, but he doesn't want to do anything about it. When Ryuk locates him and urges him to become number one, he changes into someone he never thought he would be.
1. Chapter 1

**So this story is going to be a little slow, but that's because I don't want it to be rushed. There are no important events in the first chapter, just preparing you for the real plot. I know its beginning is not the most original, but that's the best way I could write it.**  
**Ryuk and Matt will meet right in the next chapter. Also, I will be switching between their POVs, starting with Matt.**

**Rated T for minor cursing.**

**I hope you enjoy reading this, and if you don't, wait till the next chapter because that's where the story actually starts :)**

**This fanfic takes place in Wammy's House in an alternate universe, where Kira does not exist, but Ryuk is still a shinigami and there is such thing as a Death Note.**

* * *

BANG! CRASH! THUMP! BOOM!

Boom? That's new. Looks like he's started to blow shit up too.

Ugh, and I was just thinking today was a good day, with the sun shining, birds singing, cats wailing and all that cliché crap, but noooo, it's ranking day and they just have to ruin a poor gamer's peaceful slacking. Let me tell you, nothing good comes out from ranking day, I've learned that the hard way.

I couldn't care less about rankings actually, I don't want to be "The Great L", it has never been my dream. So you find me sitting around in the room I share with Mello and playing my hands off.

I sigh and roll around, plopping on my stomach, the bed shifts slightly under my weight and the wood creaks in the most annoying sound.

I just lay there; with my hands working frantically on my beloved DS and...Awh crap, I've never been able to get past this level, and I'm already beginning to lose again. I should be ashamed of myself; my record's going down the drain.

You may be wondering why I'm not reacting to my best friend's almost bringing down the orphanage, causing our possible death, and cursing in seven different languages. Well, after a few bruises and a few more broken teeth, I've learned not to stand in his way when he's on one of his infamous temper tantrums. I'd like to keep all my organs exactly where they are, thank you very much.

It's getting boring actually; same thing happens every week. Mels looks at the scoreboard, finds out he's been ranked second again, losing to that cotton candy dude and all hell breaks loose. Every single week, he has to make at least one person cry and mutilate no less than two valuable pieces of furniture.

Last Tuesday, Linda was sent for extensive therapy. Poor girl, yelling "Not the chocolate!" over and over again like a mantra. I'm too scared to ask what he's done to her; I've already seen a lot of mentally scarring things, most of which were induced by our beloved chocoholic psychopath.

The aftermath is as bad as the tantrum itself, because of course; I'm the one who has to clean up all the shit he broke down. He doesn't want his manicured nails to be chipped now, does he?

Speak of the devil, here comes my favourite PMSing blond, stomping like a herd of elephants on crack, causing a 3.8 Richter earthquake. (Yes, sometimes I DO pay attention in class. When the teacher has found all my games' hiding places, I need to spare some time to glare him down, I happen to catch a few words every once in a while) Anyway, if I didn't need all my limbs intact, I would burst out laughing in his face right there and then.

He looks like an asylum escapee, with his usually neat, oh-so-perfect hair sticking out in every possible direction, some of his strands smeared with what I hope is chocolate sauce and his ice-blue eyes are rolling around madly in their sockets. Heh, he looks like B's long lost blond brother.

I roll off the bed, dropping gracefully on the floor, almost dislocating my shoulder, and I stay there.

I just stare at him, my game long forgotten –which is a first, actually. Yay me! Okay, that sounded…quite homosexual. - Anyway, he's tapping his foot impatiently, muttering under his breath and smoke is practically coming out of his nostrils. I'm trying so desperately to hide my guffaw. If only cameras were allowed in Wammy's House, I'd be able to blackmail that ass for years to come.

"What the hell are you staring at, you retard?" he snarls sweetly –note the sarcasm- effectively snapping me out of my evil, conspiratorial thoughts. Ouch, that's a bit harsh, even for Mello. Awh, he's staring at me in his I'll-make-sure-you'll-die-a-very-painful-death way.

Really, he's such a sweetheart, spreadin' the love everywhere, loved by all people.

Not in the mood for another broken rib or twisted ankle, I purse my lips prissy librarian-style and shake my head solemnly. "Nothing," I manage to say in my most innocent voice.

"That's what I thought," he growls threateningly, throwing himself on the bed previously occupied by yours truly.

He's starting to calm down. Cool, I'm not going on a trip to the hospital today. I relax and let out a quiet sigh that goes unnoticed by Mello, who's still fuming into the poor, unprepared pillow.

Being the considerate, understanding, awesomesauce friend I am, I wordlessly shuffle across the room and open the bedside drawer, shove my hand inside and draw it again, revealing a bar of chocolate wrapped in my gloved fingers.

I watch him in amusement as he lifts his head, sniffing around slightly. His eyes light up as he snatches it away from me with more force than necessary, causing me to yelp in pain. He tears the wrapper at an inhuman speed, sinking his teeth into the chocolate and losing himself in its "heavenly comfort" or so he usually says. He nods slightly in a silent "thanks" because he's too much of a badass to utter such a wimpy word.

"Sod off," he snaps harshly. I obey him quietly, picking up my DS and sitting cross-legged on the floor, waiting for him to say something.

A few moments pass in silence, the only sounds breaking it are the beeping noises coming out of my game and his familiar occasional crunching.

I hear him clearing his throat slightly and I roll my eyes, half expecting what he's about to say.

"I'm…" he hesitates and chokes a bit, like the word waiting to come out is killing him slowly.

Mello and his pride.

"I'm s…s…are you hurt, Matt?" he mutters in one quick breath. Typical of him not to say that he's sorry. Can't say I'm surprised.

I pause and look up from the virtual battle I'm going through to flash him a small smile. "I'm fine," I say shortly.

I'm still hurt, but I know he never means anything he says or does when he's angry. He always does that, so there's nothing new. In fact, he's become so predictable that by the time he came harrumphing into our room; I had had all of his words and acts completely expected. I would never tell him that, though. It could kill him.

Our peaceful silence is interrupted by a timid knock on the door and when I grunt in approval that whoever's at the gate of doom -That's what I've called our door, it sounds much cooler- may come in, the door is slowly swung open, revealing a slight, dark haired girl, who takes in a deep, seemingly calming breath before she comes in.

"Umm…Mello?" she asks in an annoyingly soft voice.

"What the hell do you want?" he snaps at her, his eyes flashing with anger, AGAIN. Oh great.

"Look, I'm sorry you're…s…second again," She utters the word "second" quickly as if it's a curse. "You deserve much better than that."

Is she hitting on him or something?

She closes her eyes, waiting for Mello to throw a vase at her small face, but she gets no response.

"Oh, and Roger told me to tell you that your friend's third again," she adds as an afterthought, not even sparing me a glance. Yeah, that's not rude at all. Fine by me, she's weird anyway.

When he still ignores her, she silently backs away, leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

She doesn't even know my name; she addressed Mello in something concerning me, as if I was nonexistent. I may seem like a chilled gamer who doesn't give a shit, but this crap matters to me. Come to think of it, people have always referred to me as "Mello's follower", "The redhead" and "That gamer dude", they only talk to me when they're too scared or creeped out to speak to Mello directly and not once have I seen anyone approach me for something not Mello-related.

I frown as I find myself consumed by anger that I never dared to feel before. In a moment of pure fury, I throw my DS to the opposite wall, shocking Mello into a weird facial expression.

Luckily, the game's unaffected. Good stuff.

He's about to talk, but I shut him up with a silent glare. He falters, knowing that my rare anger is a sign for something serious.

At a loss for words, he reaches out for another chocolate bar. I look away, staring out the window and blowing my overgrown bangs away from my eyes in frustration.

After all, it's not everyday that you learn you're an absolute nobody.

Life's good.

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**I wrote this twice, it was exhausting, since I'm an average writer.**  
**If you have time and patience, please include the answers to these questions in your review (provided that you review in the first place :D)  
1. Is the idea original? Is it well written so far?  
2. Are the characters too OOC?  
3. Did the first chapter bore you?  
4. Not enough description? Too much of it? Just the right amount?  
5. Do you like me writing it in the present tense or is the past tense better?**

**If you don't have the time or patience, just review anyway, it would mean so much to me because that's how I would know what people actually think about my writing :)**

**Thanks for reading :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ryuk's POV  
**  
I can smell envy, fear, anger, and they all feel so damn sweet. I twist my neck to take in a deep breath, sniffing in delight; the mixed aroma fills me with a strange, but pleasant kind of euphoria.

I stare at the other Shinigami surrounding me, lying around, doing nothing but gamble to fill their wasted time.

They're rotting slowly, more so than they already have, and there's no way in this realm or any other realm I am going to turn into another pathetic, decaying, _weak_ creature.

That's it, I've taken my decision, I'm going to follow this scent and do something about it, I have no idea what I'm going to do, but it's driving me mad with desire, I tried to fight it, but it has overcome me.

That's a first; I'm always in control of my urges no matter how incredible they are. Interesting…

Screw shinigami apples, they're boring anyway, I prefer human ones, I've tasted them on many occasions and they're fantastic, and since I'm pretty sure the smell belongs to the human realm, I'm good.

I breathe in deeply, not for my personal pleasure this time, but as to locate the source of this astounding negativity.

Alright, perhaps I'll bring a few apples as a snack for the road; it's a long ride, anyway.

I'll probably wait a few minutes before I depart, though. I don't want to draw any unwanted attention to my sudden flight; every single move counts as suspicious these days. Untrusting fools.

I lean back and let out a mirthless chuckle as I once again sweep my eyes over the sad view and think of how everything that happened had led up to this useless, pathetic life, where all of us have lost the essence of being a god of death.

We have stopped using the Death Note years ago, when one of them fell into the hands of someone who could easily be the devil's embodiment on earth. His ownership of the Death Note led to the destruction of thousands from the human race, and the loss of our very own shinigami King, something which we once thought was impossible. We mourned him for weeks, and a new king was chosen, a mere coward, not worthy of the honorable title, but I couldn't stand in the way of the other Shinigamis' choice, unfortunately.

Fearing for his life, he decided not to repeat his ancestor's "mistake", and he destroyed all the existing Death Notes, save the one which had previously belonged to our king, _he_ has taken possession of it. Now all we have left is our evil wit, gambling, and immortality. The latter one is under conditions, too.

Our dear old –well, rather new- Shini King grants each one of us one human life span every month so we can guarantee we stay alive. Of course, he doesn't give them out of the kindness of his heart; as each and every one who wishes to retain their immortality must serve them in one way or another, let it be offering him most of our hard earned apple storage, submitting to all his orders, or even rubbing his "sore" feet, as if he uses them anyway. He either hovers above us or has everything brought right at his own pampered feet. Some of us even worship him!

Looks like humans aren't the only pathetic creatures out there after all.

I snap back into reality at the sound of obnoxious chewing –which I admit I'm guilty of, as well- and I find Sidoh perched on a hard rock right opposite to my crouching position. I stare at him coldly, my gaze unwavering, until he finally takes it as a cue to speak out.

"What are you thinking, Ryuk?" he asks idiotically, in an annoying nasal voice, leaning forward as if he's waiting for me to reveal some juicy secret. Hmm, juicy… I could really use an apple right now.

Focus, Ryuk, focus.

Well, to explain things between me and Sidoh –not that way, you perverts!- we have what could be called an alliance, but there's no way in hell I'm telling him about what I've planned.

There's no such thing as what humans call "trust" in our species. An unnecessary extra word can cost you a life.

Come to think of it, even _I_ don't know what I've planned, so that means I'm not completely lying.

Not that I care, anyway. Hyuk...hyuk..hyuk..

"Apples," I answer him simply with a smirk stretching on my face, and quickly change it into a fake dreamy smile, just for emphasis.

The foolish fellow nods, immediately buying it and says no more.

A few moments pass in silence, with nothing but the usual noises breaking it, when I find the scent creeping up on me again, attacking my nostrils, beckoning me to follow it to the ends of earth.

That's it, I can't wait anymore, I need to find this fascinating human. I bolt rapidly from my seat, causing Sidoh to stumble in surprise and back away as I head to my cave with slow, unhurried steps, so as not to arouse suspicion and hide the view to the outsiders' eyes with my frame, shoving my hand into a familiar crack, I retrieve my beloved death note –which unbeknownst to the King, is the only one that survived other than his.-

Oh, did I mention that I switched his note with mine? He's so ignorant he didn't even notice the difference; the king's note is supposed to have better effects, more…how can I say it? More options?

Yeah, more options. Heh, sounds nice.

Don't expect me to explain them now! Where's the fun in that? Wait and you'll see.

Anyway, I hide the note expertly under a fold in my clothes and walk casually towards the king's filthy throne.

He doesn't pay attention to me until I speak.

"I'm leaving."

He looks up at me in nothing but pure bewilderment, his red, angular face contorting in surprise, he shoves his servants away, sending them scurrying away indignantly and stares at me with a thousand questions swarming in his pitch black eyes.

"What for?" He asks with a forced tone of authority, trying desperately to hide his bafflement. I sneer to myself. How pitiful.

"I'm visiting the human realm," I say shortly.

"There's no need to!" he replies angrily, growling slightly.

"There is to me," I answer him challengingly, cocking my head to the side.

"You have no place to stay but here, to serve your lawful king and do your duties. Should you neglect them, you will be deprived from what keeps your generously granted immortality," He snarls threateningly, baring his sharp, decaying teeth, as if that coward, who's afraid of his own shadow, can knock a speck of fear into me.

"I think I'll live," I reply sarcastically with a deprecating glare. "I think you'll have to rub your own feet this time."

I turn around so that my back faces him. Among the protests and howls, I spread my wings, take off, and navigate downwards, heading to the human sky, leaving the horrible stench and grey, depressing ashes behind, with a satisfied smile decorating my ruined face.

Finally, I can soar towards the scent that's been driving me insane with desire. My wings are fluttering freely, in harmony with the unfamiliar gusts of wind.

Ugh, I was too busy making a dramatic, oh-so-badass exit to bring my road snacks. Now, I'm beginning to have these withdrawal symptoms again.

Oh, well, I like drama anyway, and I think I was fantastic.

Besides, I'll only have to wait a few hours till I sink my teeth into the heavenly human apples.

So juicy, so red, so succulent, so ridiculously delicious, so…Focus, Ryuk!

I force myself to snap back into my senses, wiping the drool off my face with a clawed hand and I focus on the mission ahead. I have amazing navigation skills, but I still need the least amount of concentration.

To be honest, I have no clue what I'm going to do once I get there, I don't even know why I'm following that scent, but the unknown is always fun, and I have this inexplicable desire to do something about it.

After hours of restless flying, I'm finally there, and the essence is stronger than ever, drawing me unbelievably close, like the strongest magnet there is.

It's late, almost midnight. The sky is painted in deep ink, with a few stars illuminating the otherwise black canvas above. The wind is light, but cold and refreshing, and I can catch a glimpse of the crescent peeking timidly among its astral comrades.

The nature of this world astounds me. Being a Shinigami doesn't necessarily mean I don't appreciate beauty, on the contrary, being imprisoned in an ever-grey world helps you see other worlds in a whole different light.

I can glimpse a large building, a huge one, actually. That's the one, my target's here, I can feel it.

Said building appears to be newly painted, with a fancy entrance gate and a large garden surrounding it. Trees, various bushes, and swings are scattered all around the garden and a lake extends behind it, giving the whole view a different kind of beauty.

I hover towards it to survey it closely. "Wammy's Institution for the gifted," I read aloud. Hmm, gifted. Mentally, maybe? So it's a house for geniuses? It certainly doesn't look like a school, it's too big and I can see windows everywhere, meaning there are dormitories. It could be an orphanage, which would make sense of the negativity resonating from it.

You must admit that I have some amazing deductive skills if I'm right about this.

Poor little ones. I grin to myself; I can't help but seek pleasure at humans' pain. They definitely deserve it. Those creatures are even more twisted than we are, and that's saying something. I mean, we _are_ evil, but at least we don't have any other choice in order to live, besides, we're straightforward about it. On the other hand, they do everything by means of deceit, even if it wasn't necessary, it's just in their nature.

I snap back into reality yet again when the aroma attacks me, begging me to come in, and I obey it immediately.

Very gently, I follow my strong senses and find my way to the second floor, still flying.

Good, the window's open, it makes it easier for me to come in comfortably. Passing through walls is fun at first, but it gets tiring _and_ boring. Not my cup of tea anymore.

Oh, no, I'm using human expressions, I hope that whoever I'm going to meet won't rub off on me.

I float silently into the dark, untidy room, surveying my surroundings, and out of exhaustion, I stumble on a book thrown carelessly on the wooden tiles of the floor, causing me to face-plant on the green carpet covering the center of the messy room.

How graceful of me.

Fortunately, the noise caused by my oh-so-graceful entrance doesn't wake the human occupying the bed to my left; it just makes him stir a bit. Apparently, this person can sleep through a hurricane.

I collect myself hurriedly and walk towards the bed; this is the one I've been looking for. I inhale deeply and bask in delight, letting the satisfaction of finding my target take over me, I then curiously spare a glance at the one who's been troubling me for the past few hours. The duvet is covering everything but his head and hands, but it shows more than enough to see who he really is.

It's just a little boy in his early teenage years. A redhead who seems to be wearing black, leather gloves and a striped t-shirt. This particular one has a strange sense of clothing. Who can sleep with leather suffocating their skin anyway?

Ignoring his fashion quirks, I allow myself to get closer to him, and growl quietly in his ear, just to get a few laughs, but I get no response. Dammit, he's getting frustrating.

I resort to letting out a wild, bone-chilling scream that finally causes him to tumble out of bed, dropping on the floor and struggling inside the tangled mess of his blue sheets –which, by the way, clash horribly with his hair, just saying-. I grin widely; this one might be entertaining after all. I can hear him cursing faintly and muttering incomprehensible words.

Before I know it, I'm cackling loudly, doubling over with laughter; something about his helplessness makes the whole situation hilarious.

He finally manages to escape the sheets after a three minute long fight and sits helplessly on the floor, looking nowhere in particular. He keeps gazing around him in confusion, and to cut it short, I force my eyes shut and my whole body becomes tense, finally enabling me to be visible to him. Naturally, my sudden appearance causes a terrified scream to rip his throat as he shakes his head repeatedly and backs out towards one of the drawers, curling his body and wrapping his arms tightly around his knees.

I find myself laughing even harder. "Hey, calm yourself, redhead," I say with a grin still plastered on my face.

"I've been playing too much video games," he says tiredly as he collects himself, swallowing a bit of saliva and forcing himself to speak calmly.

He looks up at me with sleepy eyes before he rubs them in consistently, I sigh and shift in boredom. "Look here, pal," I begin, inching closer to his sitting figure. "I'm just as real as you are, and as much as I appreciate _and_ quite enjoy your little entertaining show, you have to touch this because making myself visible to humans in this particular realm is pretty much energy draining, not to mention that I can only stay here as long as you or any other person has possession of the death note. So, till now, my stay here is illegal, and as little respect I have for law, if we're not careful enough, there could be dire consequences, and I'm not the only one who's gonna be harmed." As I speak, I fumble around with my fingers, searching for the Death Note in this particular fold in my clothes, as I get hold of it, I present it to the boy whose bright green eyes have been widening comically for the past few seconds.

He quickly gets up with a squeak, swaying slightly on his feet, drops of sweat evident on his tired face as he approaches me hesitantly, his eyes are set and his jaw is clenched. I don't see what he's so afraid of, I'm usually pretty lovable. Hyuk…hyuk…hyuk…

He once again stares at me with untrusting emerald eyes, his trembling hand reaching out unsurely, as if he's going to withdraw it at any moment. I nod in encouragement, still grinning widely and holding the note out for him.

He forces his eyes shut, slamming his hand impulsively on the note and as soon as he touches it, his eyes once more fly open, widening in horror, a violent shudder runs down his whole body, and he gasps in deeply.

Suddenly, it all finally makes sense to me; even _I _didn't know of this asset, I can feel all his thoughts, feelings and memories being transferred into my mind just as his fingers touch the note, putting all the missing pieces together, I can finally understand this boy's complex life.

It's starting to cause me a splitting headache; I hold my head with both hands, applying pressure on it and thrashing around in pain, yet a smile is drawn on my face. This is fun.

He, on the other hand, has his mouth opened in surprise, holding his head in a mimicking position to mine, and trying to set his choked screams free, but to no avail. The room is quite silent.

The pain comes to a sudden halt, and we both sigh in relief and breathe heavily after the strong attack of these bouts of pain.

Okay, I have to admit, it's not fun as I thought, but it will do. It's just started, anyway.

"Now," I speak up softly after recovering from the searing pain, "I've smelled you and all your pain millions of miles away and I greatly empathize with you. How could these fools treat such a genius this way?" I summon all the memories I recently learned to use them in my emotional speech.

"How unjust could a mere mortal be?" I circle him rapidly, causing a gust of air to ruffle some of his crimson bangs. "It's frustrating, isn't it? How can someone, who's supposed to be an equal to you, treat you as his inferior?" I say with my voice dripping with fury, my tone getting louder and louder till my last question turns into an enraged screech. His soft neck twists in peculiar angles trying to keep up with my constant motion, his hypnotized eyes following my every move with unspoken, but very evident wonder.

"I know how it feels to be underappreciated" I hiss bitterly, "It's awful, isn't it?" I arrange my features into a fake, sympathetic face, pouting excessively as I let out a loud cackle." He shudders again. "You can defeat them all, get through all these obstacles in your way to recognition, success, and appreciation!" I go on passionately. "But I believe you need my help," I whisper, touching his shoulder lightly. He jerks away from my grip, giving me a dirty look. I receive it happily, remaining still and quiet, waiting patiently for an answer.

"How?" he finally croaks after a long stretch of silence; quietly, angrily, _desperately_, with pain staining every single letter in the short word he utters. So sweet.

I flash him a wide, gleeful smile and shove the object I hold close to my heart right under his nose. "This," I whisper in his ear. "Is the solution to all your problems." My hot, heavy breath tickles his neck and face, and yet again, he shivers violently.

"What _is_ this thing? You've been carrying it around all day, asking me to touch it causing some creepy ass mumbo jumbo, and now you're saying that it holds the solution to all my problems?" he says calmly, but with a hint of anger and curiosity. "Psychotic freak of nature," he mutters under his breath with a mirthless chuckle.

I choose to ignore his hurtful comment and sigh, rolling my eyes, "You're supposed to be a genius." I say in exasperation. I flip the note over to the Rules Section. "Read." I order him, thrusting it into his open palms and waiting not-so-patiently for him to find out what it really is.

His eyes run quickly over the lines and with each passing second, he seems more horrified. I can feel his muscles tense and his breath quicken. His heart is a whole other story; it's almost jumping out of his fragile ribcage. Here it comes again; fear.

He swallows carefully, "Is..is any of this true?" he asks in a stutter, scratching his scalp in worry, already expecting the answer. So, I decide to play with him. I lean closer to him until my breath lightly touches the back of his neck, making him tremble and his hair stand on end.

I'm enjoying this way too much.

"Tell me, _Matt. _Do you believe in the supernatural?" I ask curiously.

He frowns, "Well, you're here. And I don't know what you are, you're unlike any other species on earth, therefore, you, yourself are supernatural." He concludes, deep in thought.

"So is this note, and the supernatural has always been interesting, am I right?"

"I don't see where you're going, freaky dude." He eyes me suspiciously.

"Just answer the question, please." I say sweetly. Or as sweetly as a shinigami could get, we're not exactly the most delicate creatures.

"Yes," he sighs.

"Then why don't you see for yourself if all this is true?" I hiss.

"What?" he explodes. "No freaking way!" he screams at the top of his lungs. Powerful pair, I must admit.

"I won't endanger anyone's life just because a freak like you wants to have some fun. I won't kill people just to get what I want, it doesn't matter anyway; I have no ambitions. I won't commit murder for anyone, not even for Mello!" He keeps chanting his words like a mantra, stumbling upon his words and making him sound like a fool, but that doesn't make him any less defiant.

"Stay away from me you shitty freak!" he spins around so as not to face me. Ouch, that hurt. He called me freak three times in the span of seven minutes. Not cool.

But it's so freaking funny, too. "Shitty" doesn't sound like a serious word at all. Hyuk...hyuk…

Looks like Mr. Cherries here has a noble streak, he seems to be quite a handful as well.

Oh well, it's nothing I can't handle. He'll come around.

"Besides, I'm pretty sure you're a stupid hallucination anyway. That's what sleep deprivation does to one. It makes you hallucinate creepy joker-y creatures that want you to kill people by means of a pen and magic paper." He waves his frail arms around crazily, which draws an amused smile on my face, but I'm still mad.

"I thought we went through this before, Cherries, I am real, and you can't convince yourself otherwise." I growl. "Oh, where are my manners?" my tone changes with my realization. "Of course you won't trust me or do anything I ask you, you don't even know who or what I am!" I flash him an enthusiastic smile.

"Ryuk, shinigami at your service," I bow mockingly, quickly regaining my casual, sarcastic nature.

"Sh-shinigami," he stutters with a calculating look on his face. He looks up at me with amazement. "It means a god of death!" he exclaims, surprised at his own conclusion.

"You have some astounding observational skills." I note dryly, but I'm finally relieved that the truth is sinking in; I was beginning to get sick of that boy.

He adjusts his position to place himself on the bed, sitting cross-legged and putting his chin into his palms, newly found fascination evident in his bright eyes.

"You don't wanna commit murder, am I right?" I drawl. "At least not for now," I add as an afterthought.

He rushes to his feet with too much force, he snarls, his eyes flashing with anger. I gotta say, this boy has very expressive eyes.

"Not ever," he growls. "Get back wherever the hell you came from, _shinigami."_ He says with a patronizing frown on his face.

"Now, now, Cherries, calm down," I coo him. "Fine, I won't force you to commit murder, but sooner or later, you'll find people standing in your way that are better off dead anyway," I caress his face gently, and I find myself attacked with the irresistible scent all over again.

He flinches away from me. "You said you could help me, right?" he asks unsurely, mistrust covering his entire body; his eyes, face, and posture.

"Oh yes." I answer simply.

"Why?"

"Because I'm bored."

He does a double take and narrows his eyes at me.

"I'm telling the truth, I swear," I say confidently, lifting my hands up as a sign for surrender.

His features relax a bit.

Perfect.

"Under no circumstances I'm going to hurt anyone in any of your twisted ways," he waves a warning finger around.

"We shall see," I purr. He sends a dirty look on my way and I receive it with a delighted smirk.

"Get me an apple, will you? I'm starving," I rub my empty stomach sorrowfully.

He gets up, storms out of the room with a part-angry, part-confused face, slamming the door behind him, I stay where I am and wait restlessly for my beloved snack.

I sigh in content. It's a good, good day. I mean, after all, what's the use of immortality if you don't take it as a chance to have some fun?

As long as you have nothing to lose, you can do whatever the hell you want; there are not consequences to suffer.

* * *

**Sorry, this chapter is extremely late, but life gets in the way and I've had an awful writer's block, thankfully it's cured now. Also, this chapter was very exhausting to write because this is my first time writing a fanfic with a decent plot that isn't a one-shot.**

**I'm feeling indecisive about this one :/ It turned out to be MUCH longer than I planned it to be, and have mixed feelings towards it, so it would be awesome if you told me your opinion in a quick review, it would mean the world to me because I put too much effort in this chapter, to be honest :)**

**Thanks for reading ^_^**


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